#serialfame

@serialfame​  said :  ‘ no way.  that’s not possible. ’ 

      𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃  𝐈𝐍  𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 ,    𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒  𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘  as  several  survivors  gather  around  a  generator ,    shaking  fingers  working  dutifully  to  repair  its  inner  workings.    he  can  feel  his  heartbeat  racing ,    blood  practically  pounding  in  his  ears  and  spreading  to  every  limb  of  his  body  with  sheer  excitement.   𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦  𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦  𝘵𝘩𝘦  𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳 ,    even  the  old  veteran  who’s  undoubtedly  the  most  alert  of  them  all ,    with  his  finely - honed  survival  instincts  from  years  overseas. 

        but  he’s  not  the  one  ghostface  wants.    no ,    he  has  his  eyes  set  firmly  on  the  gangly  young  woman  in  the  dirty  beanie  --  the  one  who  thought  it  was  great  fun  to  throw  a  wooden  pallet  on  his  head  earlier.    well . . .  he’ll  see  how  much  fun  she  has  when  his  knife  tears  through  her  stomach  and  cracks  her  glistening  white  ribs  open ,    when  her  innards  spill  out  like  spaghetti  and  lay  in  a  squirming  pile  in  the  dirt  as  he  watches  the  light  fade  from  her  eyes. 

       𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵  𝘢  𝘧𝘦𝘸  𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦  𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴 ,    and  she’ll  be  an  easy  target. 

                                  from  his  perch  on  the  couch  arm,  richie’s  frown  is  profoundly  disenchanted;   ❝   awesome,  sid.  i  didn’t  actually  want  the  truth.   ❞   he  wasn’t  in  any  fucking  hurry  to  get  on  yet  another  person’s  shitlist.  in  fact,  he  wasn’t  in  a  fucking  hurry  to  be  murdered,  either.  he  frowns,  attention  fully  peeling  away  from  the  drone  of  the  news  anchor  on  tv.  ❝   …okay,  fine.  whatever,  so  what?  lets  get  the  hell  out  of  dodge  before  he  does,  how  'bout  that?  take  a  vacation  while  this  thing  blows  over?   ❞   hands  come  up  in  a  show  of  melodrama  and  distress;   ❝  i  mean,  fuck  it!  we  can  go  change  our  names  in  tahiti,  and  it’ll  be  far  the  fuck  away  from  murder-capital  u.s.a.  —   ❞      

unfortunately,  he  knows  that  look.  you  don’t  exactly  survive  insane  horror  movie  shit  by  being  a  pussy.  and  no  one  could  say  sidney  prescott  wasn’t  brave.  even  if  —  in  his  professional  opinion  —    this  was  exactly  the  sort  of  problem  you  ran  from,  very  quickly,  maybe  out  of  town.  but  like  bill,  like  bev,  sidney  had  kind  of  a  bewildering  amount  of  backbone,  after  everything  she’d  been  through.

distracted,  he  fishes  for  the  cigarette  behind  his  ear;   ❝   … seriously,  sid.  you  don’t  owe  anyone  here  shit.  you  know  that,  right?  if  i  were  you  i’d  fucking  leaf  —  leave.  make  like  a  tree.   ❞   with the smoke between his fingers,  he  sighs.  shifts  glasses  up  his  nose  to  survey  her,   put-upon  as  always.  remembers  succinctly  when  he’d  last  used  his  shirt  to  wipe  blood  from  the  lenses.  and  man,  if  he  had  a  nickel  for  every  time  he’s  had  to  wipe  blood  off  the  lenses  this  year,  he  would  have  two  nickels.  which  wasn’t  a  lot  —  but  it  was  still  weird  that  it  had  happened  twice  —   and  like  snapping  out  of  a  reverie,  his  gaze  flicks  upward  again,  finding  it  in  himself,  as  always,  to  bark  a  derisive  laugh;               

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚎  𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍  :  𝚍𝚒𝚍  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚐𝚎𝚝  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍  𝚢𝚎𝚝.

         “ seeing that you’re contacting me,  I’d say so, yeah.  and speaking of orders, next one’s up and it’s certainly a doozy !  𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐘  𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓  𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐀  𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍 ’  𝐏𝐈𝐆 ! ”

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚎  𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍  :   “ 𝚒  𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐  𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛. ”  𝚑𝚖𝚖𝚖𝚖.

he avidly presses his ear to the cellphone, head cocked and lips curved as each ring excites him further.   he’s been waiting for this.   rehearsing regularly.  wants to set the record straight  -  for himself of course.   it’s to be expected, people stealing the limelight.   there’s always someone that desires their fifteen minutes of fame.   he’s heard the stories.   tales of the woodsboro ghost face, or rather, faces.   except they’d gone and gotten themselves caught and killed which meant making an example out of them simply wasn’t doable.   amateurs  -  a couple of teenage idiots squandering his reputation.   he recalls learning of the final girl.   sidney prescott.   of her miserable suffering.    𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐑  𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐘  𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 !    the attention she currently holds makes him ache.    it should be him they talk about.

he sighs as the ringing continues.   danny had waited patiently for the local journalists desperately begging her for an interview immediately after the events to die down.   thought that miss prescott would be more likely to agree to one when given time.

someone answers and he blinks.   “ hello ? ”   there’s a shift in his voice, reserved and well-spoken.   “ is this sidney prescott ? ”

                   𝙸  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙺  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚆𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙶  𝙽𝚄𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁.

he chuckles softly.   “ mm, no, I don’t think so.  but I can understand why you’d say that.   been getting a lot of trouble over the phones lately, I’m guessing ?   so sorry to hear that.  it must be difficult for you,  to have people pestering you during these traumatic times.  I hope you’re keeping well, as well as one can given the circumstances. ”   there’s a pause as he subconsciously taps his index finger against the floor he’s seated on.   one knee is brought up to his chest and hugged, the other leg stretching out comfortably.   

            “ please stop me if I’m overstepping, but I’m calling in regards to  -  well, something quite similar to your own experience.  you see, a few years back there were murders taking place in florida.   notably similar to the recent ones in woodsboro.  in fact, I believe the identities of the killers are the same  -  on the surface, at least.  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓  𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄  𝐆𝐄𝐓-𝐔𝐏.   it seems there could be an unexplored link between the two cases.  now I know I should let it all lay to rest but ... I’ve been working on an article lately specifically for the family and friends of roseville victims.   peace of mind and all for them, since they never caught the killer and justice wasn’t served. ”

danny pauses again, allowing her a moment to process his words.   “ I thought it’d be fascinating to meet you.    again,  𝙄’𝙙  𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚  𝙩𝙤  𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚  𝙮𝙤𝙪  𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡  𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙,  and forgive me if this is all too much.   I just feel it’d maybe give the victims’ families hope.  you’d be doing such a generous thing.   uniting the wounded forces.  I’m sure they’d be grateful to read your perspective as a survivor.  especially when all they’ve been exposed to is, well, death.   find some wisdom in your words.   it’s not a problem if you don't want to, I just didn’t want to miss the opportunity to help uplift some heartbroken folks, is all.   I understand if you’re not interested. ”